Update: The History Channel made a
movie called "The Fletcher Destroyers" and included a dramatized scene showing
this potato battle.

On April 5th, 1943, the U.S. Navy's Destroyer Squadron 21 was returning
from a night of shelling Japanese shore installations deep in the New Georgia
area of the Solomon Islands. Our destroyer, the USS O'Bannon, as
part of this force, picked up a radar contact that turned out to be a large
Japanese submarine cruising on the surface and apparently unaware of our
presence. The Japanese lookouts undoubtedly were fast asleep.

We approached rapidly and were preparing to ram the sub. Our
captain and other officers on the bridge were trying to identify the type
of sub and decided, at the last minute, that it could be a mine layer.
Not wanting to blow up ourselves along with the sub, the decision was made
that ramming was not a wise move. At the last moment, the rudder was swung
hard to avoid a collision and we found ourselves in a rather embarrassing
situation as we sailed along side of the Japanese submarine.

On board the sub, Japanese sailors, wearing dark shorts and dinky
blue hats, were sleeping out on deck. In what could be considered
a rude awaking, they sat up to see an American destroyer sailing along
side. Our ship however, was far too close to permit our guns lowered
enough to fire and since no one on deck carried a gun, not a shot
was heard. Ditto on the Japanese sub, no one there had a gun either.
In this situation, no one seemed sure of the proper course of action
and it probably would not have been covered in the manual anyway.
Therefore everyone just stared more or less spellbound.

The submarine was equipped with a 3 inch deck gun and the sub's captain
finally decided that now was probably a good time to make use of it.
As the Japanese sailors ran toward their gun, our deck parties reached
into storage bins that were located nearby, picked out some potatoes and
threw them at the sailors on the deck of the sub. A potato battle ensued.
Apparently the Japanese sailors thought the potatoes were hand grenades.
This kept them very busy as they try to get rid of them by throwing them
back at the O'Bannon or over the side of the sub. Thus occupied,
they were too busy to man their deck gun which gave us sufficient time
to put a little distance between our ship and the sub.

Finally we were far enough away to bring our guns to bear and firing
commenced. One of our shells managed to hit the sub's conning tower but
the sub managed to submerge anyway. At that time our ship was able
to pass directly over the sub for a depth charge attack. Later information
showed that the sub did sink. When the Association of Potato Growers
of Maine heard of this strange episode, they sent a plaque to commemorate
the event. The plaque was mounted in an appropriate place near the
crews mess hall for the crew to see. Well, it was the crew's battle.

The story was picked up by the papers back in the States and, shortly
thereafter, a full blown account of the event was covered by a story in
the READERS DIGEST. Conversations with a crew member that served
years later revealed that, while the plaque was still located in the crew's
mess hall, no one seemed to pay much attention to it nor knew much about
it. I guess the crew was interested in making history but not particularly
interested studying it.

Update to the Maine Potato Incident

February 24, 1999

An article printed in the February, 1999 USS O'BANNON SHIPMATES ASSOCIATION
newsletter provided a personal account of the Maine Potato Incident as
witnessed by Louis Cianca of the original crew of the O'Bannon. In
it, he adds some interesting comments. I was unaware of the orders being
bantered about on the bridge since, though close enough to the Japanese
submarine myself to engage in the potato fight, I was inside the main radio
room and unable to hear what was going on.

If both crews had been armed and firing at each other, it could well
have happened that those of us unlucky enough to be in the radio room,
could have easily been hit by the gunfire since the metal protection around
the shack was only a thin panel of aluminum. Fortunately, no potatoes
were able to penetrate our bulkheads to endanger us inside.

Here is Lou Cianca's version as he saw it. His version is how
it was related to those of us who were not able to see it for ourselves.
Following Lou's version is the official version that I believed he was
referring to in his report.

The Maine Potato Battle

By Lou Cianca
(Eyewitness
view)

In reference to the potatoes which were thrown at the Jap submarine,
the navy version is incorrect! That night I, Louis Cianca was on
watch on the 20 MM gun mid ship, port side. The potato lockers or bins
were near me, they were next to the laundry room which was next to the
galley. No one went below for the potatoes. When we were told to
prepare to fire that a submarine was spotted we were along side of it.
I could not depress my gun, I kept hitting the conning tower.

Yes! I could see the Japs running around, Yes! Since we were not
at general quarters there were men just looking at the sub and they started
to take potatoes from the bins or lockers and started to throw them at
the sub. At this time we had the squadron commodore aboard and he kept
yelling at Capt. Mac to ram the sub, but Capt. Mac was yelling we cannot,
for we do not have the cutting bow, but the commodore kept YELLING RAM
THEM, good thing he did not, God only knows what would have happened to
us if he did. For spotting the sub, 1st Class Sonar man CHARLES CONN
was promoted to Ensign and left the mighty OBannon for officers school.
I can see him now a big guy, yes, I remember the first cruise like it was
yesterday.

The following story is apparently is the official version of the
Maine Potato Incident that Lou was referring to. It was printed in
the April 1993 O'Bannon newsletter. There was no indication in the
story as to where it originated but it sounds like a report by the destroyer
division commander.

Another Update to the Maine Potato Incident

April 10, 1999

U.S.S. O'Bannon Kills RO-34
(Probably written by the Division Commander)

On April Fool's Day, 1943, Admiral Halsey received information which
was nobody's practical Joke. Scouting over the Upper Solomons, Allied aircraft
had a glimpse of enemy activity which suggested a big aerial offensive
in the making. A lot of supplies were being rushed into enemy bases
in the islands. What the Allied flyers had glimpsed was the building
up for Yamamoto's Operation I. Although unable to gauge
the exact size of this Jap offensive, the Americans made prompt efforts
to counter it.

Six times Admiral Ainsworth's force raced north of Kula Gulf, trying
to intercept the Japanese, but each time the Jap convoys gave the American
ships the slip. Reason: Jap snooper planes and submarines on picket patrol
-- a warning system which flashed the alarm to the nervous convoys, giving
them adequate time to retire or take cover.

It was a good system while it lasted but it cost the Imperial
Navy another submarine. Early in the morning of April 5, Ainsworth's
task force was up the "Slot," hunting contact with a reported convoy. The
contact, tipped off, had made itself scarce. But destroyers Strong and
O'Bannon of the task force screen make radar contact at 0218 with one of
the picket subs.

Initial range was 7,000 yards. O'Bannon reported the suspicious "pip,"
and her captain, Lieutenant Commander D. J. MacDonald, was ordered to conduct
an immediate investigation. It took MacDonald about ten minutes to
get his ship within sighting range and identify the submarine's silhouette
as "made in Japan."

That was all the destroyer men needed. O'Bannon passed ahead of the
sub at a distance of about 90 yards. Before the Jap deep-sea sailors knew
what hit them, a hot 5-inch salvo was punched down the submarine's
throat. MacDonald ordered a K-gun attack. Three portside projectors
let fly. The charges straddled the submarine. As the smoke frazzled out
of the K-guns, MacDonald conned the ship away and then closed the range
to 150 yards, and the destroyer men raked the sub with 1.1-inch and 20 mm.
fire.

About 0319 O'Bannon's sonar men obtained sound contact with the submerged
target, and MacDonald conned the ship for a depth-charge run. An 8-charge
pattern was dropped. It was noted that "all charges functioned properly."
This was technical way of saying that eight timed detonations were heard
by the destroyer men, not to mention the submariners in the target submersible.
Also, there was one particular very heavy explosion quite different in
effect from a normal depth-charge explosion. Evidently something
bigger than a light bulb had popped within the submarine.

Twice more MacDonald ran his destroyer over the spot, but O'Bannon's
sonar was unable to re-establish contact with the sub. For the submarine
had gone deep. Very deep. Flying over that locale the following day, American
aviators sighted a large, undulant oil slick drifting on the surface of
the "Slot." It was the last earthly remnant of the RO-34.

The spud throwers hold a reunion in Pittsburgh,
Pennsylvania the week-end of July 14, 1984.

Thursday, October 03, 2002 6:40 AM

An e-mail from a viewer in Belgium, Patrick Van Herck, sent this
picture that his daughter Suzanne had drawn after she read the Maine
Potato story. Thank you Suzanne for a clever drawing.

Ernie

Look what my daughter has made for you. I
only helped her with the translation.